


Soft

by TenSpencerRiedPlease



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Friendship, M/M, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, again- mostly implied but like its more relevant than my weird high and also urban fantasy elements, alright im abasing the tags now ill leave y'all to read the damn story, but also that's not that relevant to the story, kind of anyway, mostly this is just self indulgent Jaskier and Geralt bonding, ok now i'm done, so like think vampires and elves running around in cities, this is a weird blend of urban and high fantasy, though the touch starved thing is more implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenSpencerRiedPlease/pseuds/TenSpencerRiedPlease
Summary: “We should take a vacation,” Jaskier says. Geralt snorts. “Oh don’t be rude, we could use a vacation.”“What would we do?” Geralt murmurs. “Aside from you getting into trouble and needing my help, which seems to happen everywhere we go.”“It does not, I’ve saved you multiple times! And we could visit Yennefer I suppose, or we could hang out in a city for awhile, soak in all the weird supernatural culture. You’d blend in!”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 239





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have this inexplicable AU that sort of poured out. I'm not totally sure what this is aside from my accidentally making Jaskier kind of bad at being a soft dom and Geralt a brat, but somehow keeping them both in character the whole time but this IS a good time so I hope y'all like!

“I honestly cannot _believe_ the entitlement! ‘Yes Witcher, kill the thing that keeps eating our children but do it for free because we don’t like you and yes we need you,’” Jaskier says as they tumble back through the door of the hotel they’re staying in.

Geralt shakes his head and drops the blade he’d used in the fight on the table in front of the couch. Jaskier wrinkles his nose but try as he might training being a civilized person and not leaving his bloody weapons lying about has not been a successful endeavor of his. And he figures if Yennefer couldn’t manage he’s hopeless. But then Geralt hardly finds Yennefer as terrifying as he does so maybe that’s why she had been unsuccessful in her attempts to tame Geralt.

“I remember a certain someone trying to skip out on _his_ payment,” Geralt points out and Jaskier makes an offended noise.

“I said we could work out a payment plan!”

“That you were fully intending on skipping out on,” Geralt says as he peels off his bloody clothing. Jaskier sighs as he gathers the layers before they hit the ground. Just because Geralt is used to sleeping in barns doesn’t mean he gets to leave a mess all over and he’s not paying for whatever cleaning is required to get kitsune blood out of the carpet.

“Intentions at the time don’t matter Geralt, I paid up in the end,” he says as Geralt starts just handing him his clothes, small smile on his face. He _swears_ Geralt does this on purpose, just stats throwing his clothing all about so Jaskier can pick it up.

“You fed me for a week,” Geralt says as he hands off a belt’s worth of potions of some kind. Jaskier takes it and wrinkles his nose.

“Honestly Geralt, can’t you do this outside? I think I might have guts on my hand now,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I will have you _know_ that you eat a _lot and_ it was a measly vampire you scared off. Its not like eight of my family members had been eaten by elves and I showed up expecting you to kill a whole city for free,” he points out. “And run a bath while I attempt to soak the blood out of all this,” he adds.

Geralt moves off to do as he’s told without further instruction and Jaskier drops the clothing into a predesignated blood soaking bucket because unlike _some_ people he likes to be prepared. He has no idea what combination of herbs or magic or whatever Yennefer puts in her laundry soap or whatever it is he cleans Geralt’s clothes with but it does work wonders, he will give her that.

“Since when do you care about Witcher rights?” Geralt asks, head poking out of the bathroom as the water runs behind him. He looks bemused as he watches Jaskier poke at his clothes with his designated Witcher clothes cleaning stick because he will touch this stuff as little as he has to, _thank_ Geralt very much.

“Witcher rights? Oh, these are _worker_ rights its just that it applies to Witchers,” Jaskier says. “When you want a service you pay for it, that’s the deal we all made and now people want to act like they can’t pay their local Witcher to get rid of their creepy little river monsters that _literally_ swallow them whole? I _don’t_ think so, Geralt. There is not enough money in the _world_ that could convince me to get eaten by monsters on a regular basis so the least these people can do is not fight you on a price when they clearly aren’t willing to do the work themselves,” he says, lifting his blood clothing stick out of the water and shaking it off for a moment before waving it around.

“That’s only happened twice, and both times you were there. I’m starting to think you’re a bad luck charm,” Geralt tells him.

Jaskier lets out another offended noise. “A _bad luck_ charm! Excuse you Mr. Wticherpants, I am the best thing that has ever happened to you!” he says, hand pressed to his heart.

“So you keep telling me,” Geralt mumbles, if in a fond tone that’s usually only reserved for Yennefer if he uses it for anyone else besides Jaskier.

He sticks the blood poking stick back in the water and marches his way to the bathroom to glare at Geralt proper. “If anything, you are a bad luck charm to me,” he says, hands on his hips.

Geralt lets out a snort, “how do you figure that?” he asks, handing off his pants to Jaskier.

He refuses to be distracted by Geralt’s admittedly well shaped form even after all the scars sustained fighting monsters over the years. He won’t be distracted by Geralt’s broad shoulders or the blood in his hair that shouldn’t even _be_ attractive.

“Well, I’ve almost been eaten by weird things that go bump in the night _and_ the day spending time with you,” he says, nose in the air.

“That’s what happens when you spend time with a Witcher. Comes with the territory. Come here,” Geralt says as he slides into the bathtub, closing his eyes as he sinks into the water.

“You can wait five minutes,” Jaskier tells him and walks away. Yennefer had warned him if he’d let Geralt he’d be a demanding little thing. Well, larger than him thing- larger then Yennefer thing too- well, _whatever_. He’s figured out how these things go and he thinks he’s struck a good balance between them however much Yennefer tells him he’s too soft. That’s not the problem at all, the problem is that she’s mean and he’s a nice person so he washes Geralt’s hair, its not even a hardship. Yet when Yennefer found out about that she laughed in his face and told him Geralt has him wrapped around his finger.

He absolutely _doesn’t_ , thank Yennefer very much and he doesn’t need her advice on dating Geralt either. He’s got that figured out mostly too. He drops Geralt’s pants into the bucket and stirs them around a bit, wrinkling his nose. Geralt should get a day job, something less disgusting than this so Jaskier doesn’t have to clean up after him. With a heavy sigh he puts the stick aside and sheds his considerably less bloody clothing as he goes back into the bathroom to find Geralt still soaking in the tub, pale hair floating on the water. He cracks an eye open as Jaskier enters like he didn’t already know it was him. Increased hearing abilities and an increased sense of smell means he’d know it was Jaskier even if there was a chance it wasn’t.

“Wash my hair,” Geralt tells him. Jaskier makes an offended noise, walking over and dipping his fingers in the water before flicking it at Geralt. He wrinkles his nose and shrinks his head back, opening his eyes to glare at Jaskier properly.

“I will do what I want. Now move forward a little so I can wash your hair,” he says, not at all convinced that he’s doing it because Geralt told him to. He would have washed his hair anyway, there’s blood in it and he’s found out the hard way that it stains. Geralt looks absurd with red hair, he refuses to tolerate it so washing it is necessary.

He moves up a little, settling back against Jaskier as he perches on the edge of the tub so he can properly wash Geralt’s hair. He tilts Geralt’s head back and Geralt lets him, making a soft noise of contentment when Jaskier pours water over his head. He massages at his scalp carefully, making sure all the strands are wet before adding shampoo. “You should get something to cover your hair. One of these days you’ll get eaten by something with strong stomach acid and you’ll come out bald as an egg and I won’t love you anymore,” Jaskier tells him as he massages the soap in.

Geralt says nothing, just snorts like he thinks that’s not true. He’ll see if he ever loses his hair and when he whines Jaskier will tell him that he was warned. Once he’s done with the soap he washes it out and puts the conditioner in. The conditioner that Geralt had _no_ idea existed before Jaskier and honestly the man was suffering before Jaskier decided to save him. Geralt remains still throughout the process, allowing Jaskier to do the work in relative peace.

“No stitches tonight, thank _god_ ,” Jaskier mostly comments to himself.

“Hmm,” is all he gets out of Geralt not that he’s surprised. He’s not exactly a man of many words.

“Want a massage when I get you out of here?” Jaskier asks as he rinses the conditioner from Geralt’s hair. He nods a little, almost imperceptible, but Jaskier gets the message. “We should egg someone’s house on the way out of here. Honestly, arguing you should just go around risking life and limb for free,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“We could have just let them get eaten at for another week if they refused. I’m sure someone cares about their loved ones enough to not want them eaten,” he says like Geralt would have left them like that. He’s got _ethics_. Well Jaskier has common fucking sense and since people have a _thing_ about Geralt because of the stupid Witcher thing he gets stuck playing price mediator. He’s sure Geralt could manage on his own, he had to before Jaskier came along to save him, but he’s gotten so annoyed that he’s started to tell people to pay up himself.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he says. “Besides, I did fetch us a pretty good price if I do say so myself.”

Geralt opens his eyes strictly to roll them at Jaskier and he’s offended, truly. “Keep acting like that and I’ll give you back to Yennefer,” Jaskier tells him, tugging at a strand of his hair.

Geralt frowns, opening his eyes again just to give Jaskier a confused look. “That wouldn’t be much of a problem,” he says and oh _no_.

“Fine, we’ll see who washes the blood out of your hair next week,” Jaskier tells him as he shifts, prepared to pull himself off the small ledge of the tub where he’s been _slaving_ over Geralt’s hair.

Geralt grabs him before he manages though, “Jask,” he all he says, eyes barely open and he sighs, sitting back down and letting Geralt settle back against him again. He rinses the rest of the conditioner out of his hair before he sinks down into the tub too, sighing at the warm water made all the better by Geralt settled against his chest. He carefully cleans Geralt, ensuring that he’s not wounded anywhere else before scrubbing himself down as best as he can manage.

Familiar with the routine by now Geralt pulls himself than Jaskier out of the bath leaving both of them dripping on the bathmat. He’s irritated that Geralt seems completely unaffected by the sudden cold while he’s left shivering like a bald baby bird. Geralt looks amused as he wraps a soft fluffy towel around him. “Stop that, not all of us are impervious to weather,” he mumbles as he dries himself off.

“I’m not impervious to weather,” Geralt murmurs as he runs the towel over his limbs to dry off.

“I’ve watched you get nearly _digested_ , Geralt. You’re impervious to weather.”

“Stomach acid isn’t weather, Jask,” Geralt tells him, smiling a little as he steals his towel away.

He makes an offended noise and takes it back while Geralt smiles down at him, lips tipped up just barely. “Rude! What has gotten into you today?”

Geralt, because he’s as sweet as he is annoying, leans down and kisses him softly before he leaves the room, tossing his towel at Jaskier as he goes. Jaskier shakes his head, “see if I massage you now you cretin,” he calls after him. He wraps his towel back around his waist and makes his way to the bed occupying the small space. Geralt is already there, happily strewn on it with no consideration for where Jaskier is supposed to go. “Move it,” he tells Geralt, tapping his thigh. He doesn’t move anywhere and Jaskier puts his hands on his hips, “Geralt, move over or I’m going to sit on you.”

When Geralt doesn’t move he sighs, crawling onto the bed gingerly and sitting right on Geralt’s back. “There, how’s that,” he says, looking down at Geralt.

“Comfortable. You don’t weigh much,” Geralt tells him.

Oh, he is _so_ going to find a way to make this an absolute inconvenience for Geralt. “Come tomorrow you’re not going to be happy about this,” Jaskier tells him.

“Hmm,” Geralt says back, clearly doubting his abilities to make his life difficult and that is _it_ , he’s going to let those bloody clothes soak over night and Geralt can deal with the fact that he’s going to have to wait a day for them to dry to put them back on. See how much he likes his favorite pants being out of commission. And Jaskier will _never_ understand why he wears clothes he likes to hunt monsters in when there’s a possibility of being eaten or otherwise maimed.

“Move over so I can brush your hair,” Jaskier tells him, yelping when Geralt easily moves despite having Jaskier sitting on his back. Actually that’s a bit attractive if he’s honest. But he has things to make good on so he sighs and moves of Geralt to grab the brush, making use of it on his own hair first because unlike _some_ Witcher over there if he doesn’t put the effort in he looks like a hot mess. Geralt? He wakes up looking like a whole team put together his look while Jaskier looks like a drown and hungover _rat_. Its wildly unfair.

Geralt moves back over into him, pressing himself back into Jaskier. He sighs as Jaskier brushes his hair back from his face. He’s careful about brushing it despite knowing that Geralt has a pretty high pain tolerance. Its just nice to be gentle with him for once, allow him at least some modicum of peace between killing monsters in rivers and small towns and his hair is so pretty. Its a shame Geralt doesn’t take care of it as well as Jaskier does- since coming under his care he’s happy to report that its softer and more of a silver color than the dull white it takes on when Geralt leaves it like some kind of barbarian.

He brushes through it softly, taking his time with the tangles and thankfully there’s no damn red in it still. Sometimes it likes to stick and then he has to harass Geralt to do treatments on it that he never wants to do. Geralt doesn’t move, lets Jaskier do his thing with his eyes mostly closed, towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist.

“We should take a vacation,” Jaskier says. Geralt snorts. “Oh don’t be rude, we could use a vacation.”

“What would we do?” Geralt murmurs. “Aside from you getting into trouble and needing my help, which seems to happen everywhere we go.”

“It does not, I’ve saved you multiple times! And we could visit Yennefer I suppose, or we could hang out in a city for awhile, soak in all the weird supernatural culture. You’d blend in!”

“Witchers don’t blend in anywhere,” Geralt says and Jaskier rolls his eyes.

“Oh stop acting like some poor tortured soul, Witchers aren’t exactly _abundant_ but they’d blend in with the local witches and mages well enough if you didn’t act like that,” he says, tugging on a strand of Geralt’s hair.

“Mages tend to be rural,” Geralt says like Jaskier doesn’t know that. He had the misfortune of growing up rural and right next to a bunch of elves. Yeah, he got the shit end of the stick there, which is probably why he followed Geralt out of that shit hole the moment he showed up.

“Well whatever, you’d blend in with whatever magical things are running around well enough. We could have fun,” he suggests.

“You’d stick out as a human,” Geralt points out.

“Party pooper. Humans don’t exactly segregate themselves from supernatural creatures, I’ve followed you around for god knows how long,” he says.

“Hmm,” Geralt says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Fine, we can go to some other backwater shit hole and get rid of whatever _they_ have lurking around,” he says.

“I already have another job lined up,” Geralt says and he _always_ neglects to tell Jaskier these things.

“Do you think maybe I would like to know what you have planned some days?” he asks. “Because it seems like you think I like surprises and I assure you unless the surprises are flowers and chocolates I do not.”

Geralt just smiles, lips tilted up slightly and _oh,_ Jaskier is too good to him.

*

Yennefer shakes her head, “he never would have done that with me,” she says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes, familiar with this argument. “That’s because you’re awful,” he tells her, if fond. So she’s terrifying- he’s learned a begrudging respect for her after she saved his and Geralt’s ass a few times. He feels having his life saved is a good reason to grow respect for someone.

“That’s because I am good at what I do and Geralt wouldn’t even think _twice_ about doing something I told him not to,” she says.

He looks over to Geralt, who is poking at the flower she’s told him twice not to mess around with mostly because the fact that it looks like the magical version of a venus fly trap amuses him and Jaskier nods. “Yeah, I believe that,” he says. When Yennefer looks to where he had been Geralt is already five steps away looking at something else somehow managing to not look suspicious about it.

“See?” Yennefer tells him. “You need to grow a pair if you’re looking to be in charge here or he will walk all over you.”

Jaskier goes to lean against the counter but misjudges, nearly falling over but he recovers fast and leans against the counter like he meant to the first time. “I do just fine, thank you.”

Yennefer gives him a skeptical look, “you brush his hair every morning.”

“I like it to be soft! How is that me not being in charge here. And god knows what would happen if I left _him_ in charge of it. Its a wonder he even has hair at all the way he treats it.”

“If you were in charge he’d brush his own damn hair because you like it to be soft,” Yennefer says.

He hates that she makes a point so he pouts.

“You brushed my hair too,” Geralt says, frowning at her and Jaskier nearly jumps on Yennefer’s counter out of sheer joy.

“ _Ha_! You brushed his hair!”

Yennefer glares at him, “oh you shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My writing Tumblr](https://tenspencerriedplease.tumblr.com/)


End file.
